A Springtime To Remember

Lucy Coleman

Description

‘Wonderfully escapist, romantic and heart-warming, Lucy Coleman’s stories are the perfect tonic when life is a little grey.' Holly Martin

Let bestseller Lucy Coleman transport you to glorious, sun-drenched France, for the perfect feel-good read.

Paris and the Palace of Versailles have always meant a lot to TV producer Lexie. Her grandma Viv spent a year there, but her adventures and memories were never discussed, and Lexie has long wondered why they were a family secret.

When work presents the perfect excuse to spend Springtime in Versailles, Lexie delves into Viv’s old diaries and scrapbooks, and with the help of handsome interpreter Ronan, she is soon learning more about the characters that tend to the magnificent gardens, now and in the past.

In amongst the beauty and splendour of the French countryside, a story of lost love, rivalry and tragedy unfolds. Can Lexie and Ronan right the wrongs of the past, and will France play its tricks on them both before Lexie has to go home? Will this truly be a Springtime to Remember…?
Get swept away with this perfect feel-good love story. Just right for fans of Holly Martin, Sue Moorcroft and Heidi Swain.

What readers are saying about A Springtime to Remember

‘Lucy Coleman writes wonderfully escapist, romantic and heart-warming stories that transport you far away from the every day grind. Beautifully written, comforting and utterly uplifting, Lucy Coleman’s stories are the perfect tonic when life is a little grey.' Holly Martin, bestselling author of The Gift of Happiness

'I loved this book from start to finish and I could not put it down. It is the perfect choice for this time of year as it will add the sunshine even to the dullest of days.'

'Uplifting, funny, romantic and charming.'

'The perfect escapist read.'

'What’s not to love!'

'A unique, charming premise for a story with a wonderfully, romantic location to fall in love with.'

'This story is about love, hope, happiness, fairytale ending and happy ever afters. I loved it.'

'A brilliant read, which I would definitely recommend to other readers. I will definitely be reading more of Lucy's work in the future.'

Sujets

• Vie de famille
• Relations familiales
• Special Interest
• Alternative Family
• Women
• Coming of Age
• Interest group (disambiguation)
• Friendship
• Contemporary history
• Romantic Comedy
• General officer
• Mother's Day
• Woman
• Valentine's Day
• Easter
• The Women
• City Life
• Summer
• General
• Holiday
• Family
• Contemporary
• Spring
• Family Life
• Romance
• Fiction
• Versailles
• France
• Europe

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 26 décembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781838890506
• Langue: English

Extrait

A Springtime to Remember


Lucy Coleman
Contents



Author’s Note


I. March 2018


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

II. April 2018


Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

III. June 2018


Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

IV. August 2018


Chapter 31


Acknowledgments

More from Lucy Coleman

About the Author

About Boldwood Books
Author’s Note

The Palace of Versailles is legendary and awe-inspiring. After numerous visits over the years, I hope – with all sincerity – that my descriptions throughout have done it justice.
So too, in sharing some of its history; but this story, including the characters I have created, is the product of my imagination.
I would like to pay tribute to those who have been involved in its long and colourful history. It’s a place I think about often, in between visits, and I have no idea why I feel such a deep connection to it. But I do.
It was on one such visit, on 12 June 2018, that Lexie and Ronan first spoke to me.
A few months later, during a rather stormy English winter, I found myself transported back there. It is, indeed, a place to inspire both the heart and the mind.
Part I

March 2018
1
When Fairy Tales Come True

‘Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a very big dream.’
‘How big?’ Little Maisie stares up at me questioningly. Surrounded by a mantle of shadows in the darkened room, only the tiny shaft of light seeping in from the landing allows me to see her baby-blue eyes. She’s determined not to give in to sleep, but it’s obvious she’s fighting a losing battle.
Maisie blinks in rapid succession and already her breathing is beginning to slow.
‘Hu-u-u-uge.’ The sound of my soft whisper fills the air. ‘And she promised herself she would never, ever, let anyone deter her from trying her hardest to make everything she wished for come true.’
I glance down at my darling niece and catch a fleeting glimpse of a smile before sleep finally whisks her away. Hesitant to make a move for fear of disturbing her, I decide to sit for a while, fascinated by that perfect little heart-shaped face. It tugs on my heart strings as I realise how much I’m going to miss her this spring.
As I’m about to ease myself up very gingerly off the bed, to my complete surprise her little voice suddenly rises up out of the darkness.
‘When you come back you will tell me all about your adventure, won’t you, Auntie Lexie?’
I reach across to smooth a few strands of hair away from her warm little cheek.
‘Of course, I will. And it will be a story of palaces and kings and magical gardens that stretch out as far as the eye can see. Now go to sleep, beautiful girl, and keep a tight hold of Mr Panda, because he will keep you safe until I get home.’ She snuggles her rather threadbare companion even closer.
Stooping to plant a kiss on her forehead, I notice she’s fallen back to sleep. It’s hard not to feel sad, because when I return, she’ll probably have grown another inch and I will have missed so much. Even a few months can see so many changes in a five-year-old and she’s growing up way too quickly. Maisie is an old head on young shoulders, and takes after me, rather than my sister, Shellie. Much to Shellie’s annoyance.
I creep out to find my older sister in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar leisurely reading her Kindle.
‘That was quick, but Maisie was exhausted. Swimming always has that effect on her. She’s going to miss you, you know.’
Shellie holds up her empty coffee mug and shakes it at me. I nod, sinking down onto the stool next to her as she jumps up and heads in the direction of the coffee machine.
‘I know she’s only a phone call away, but it won’t be the same. She’s my little buddy. You made a special one there, sis.’
Shellie laughs. ‘Well, I might not have attained the lofty heights of ambition and fame that my baby sister and my older brother have, but this is the life I wanted, so I’m happy.’
I studiously ignore the reference to our estranged brother, Jake. Success often comes at a price and, in his case, it went to his head. I guess family doesn’t mean much if your ego tells you that you’ve outgrown the people who love you.
Reining in that little surge of anger his name always invokes, I watch Shellie as she moves around the kitchen. With baby number two due in seven months’ time she’s in her element. I know she’s impatient, ticking off each precious day on her calendar at the thought of giving Maisie a sibling. Shellie is a mini version of Mum, whereas Jake and I take after our late father, Paul.
Chrissy, our mum, has always been the rock of the family because Dad was often away travelling, or home working late in his study. They were a team, though, and she was a bigger part of his success than most people realise. And because they were both happy in their respective roles, I can’t remember them ever having a cross word.
Dad was someone who grabbed every opportunity and was determined to live his dream. Was he a little self-centred? Well, yes, I suppose he was, because as soon as he was away, it was as if we didn’t really exist for him. But on his return, Dad would thrill us with stories that captured our imaginations and fired our enthusiasm.
Dad was lauded as one of the top wildlife photographers of his generation, and he lived for the thrill of capturing that perfect shot. With a long list of magazine articles and natural history programmes to his credit, he was always in demand. The fact that he died while doing something he loved seemed fitting in a tragic sort of way.
I remember the day of the fateful call and the phone falling from Mum’s ear as she struggled to take in the devastating news. Dad had a massive heart attack while filming on location in Tarangire National Park, in Tanzania. If only it had happened in the UK, maybe we could have…
‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you, Lexie?’
Shellie appears in front of me, proffering a mug of steaming coffee and one of her delicious, homemade chocolate and beetroot brownies.
‘Sorry. My head is all over the place right now. So many last-minute things to do before I fly out tomorrow.’
She eases herself up onto the stool alongside me, frowning.
‘No regrets? I mean, you’re always heading off somewhere or other, but this is the longest stint in one go. I know there’s a lot at stake for you personally on this one.’
I burst out laughing. ‘A lot? You could say that. I’m sinking every penny I’ve saved into this, and it’s my one-time shot.’
Absent-mindedly, she scoops the long blonde hair back from her face, yanking a scrunchy from around her wrist to pull it into a ponytail. I’ve always envied her hair, another gift bestowed by Mum, and my short, feathery look is about all I can do to tame my wavy mane. Taking after Dad doesn’t come without its drawbacks.
‘You aren’t regretting this project?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I don’t want to be just a TV presenter any more.’
She smiles. ‘Your chance, at last, to be a producer, too. You just like being in charge.’
The smile becomes more of a smirk – she knows me so well and yet her comment puts me on the defensive.
‘Well, you know that I love gardening programmes. You can blame that on Grandma. All the time I spent with her in the garden as a child. And teaming up with cameraman Elliot Nielson is a dream come true. Elliot has great connections and has filmed at Versailles before. Fingers crossed, between us we can do the business.’
In fact, Elliot is setting out to make a big name for himself and his work already commands a lot of respect within the industry. But this project is a huge risk for him too, because, while in theory we have interest in this mini-series of documentaries we’re going to be working on together, there’s no signed contract yet. The reality of the situation is that no TV network will commit until we have something to show them, which means using our own money, and putting everything on the line.
‘So, when exactly are you due back from Versailles?’
‘The fourth of June, at the latest, as I’m hosting a new slot on the Morning Sunshine show. Elliot won’t be working exclusively on our project while we’re away as he has some paid work that he’ll be doing in between filming. It was a big factor in him being able to commit to it, so I’m happy to work around him. What’s left of my nest egg will keep me going until I get home, hopefully. The bonus is that this is finally the chance I’ve been waiting for, to spend time doing some family research.’
Shellie’s forehead lifts as she pulls one of her renowned is that wise? faces.
‘I guessed as much, but have you actually spelt that out to Mum?’
‘What, that I want to dig around and find out more about Grandma’s time in France? Well, I sort of assumed she’d take that for granted. I’m a journalist, after all, and I’ll be in Versailles with time on my hands.’
‘Good luck with that, then, as 1961 was a long time ago.’ She rolls her eyes, clearly thinking any spare time I have could be better utilised.
‘I loved Grandma Viv’s stories about her childhood – she was a natural storyteller. You missed a lot not joining us in the garden, you know.’
Shelley bats her eyelashes at me. ‘That’s why your hands were always so filthy as a child and, besides, you were her undisputed favourite. She knew it was never my thing, anyway.’
‘Well, I think you missed out. But as for her French adventure, well, it was strange because she wouldn’t talk about it. I mean, what did Granddad think? They met, she was offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to head off to France on a year’s work experience and when she returned home, they were mar